Bloodless
by BFangz
Summary: Nothing breaks the boredom like a nice bloody murder... especially if there is no blood.
1. Boredom

**Boredom**

The blinds on Lisbon's windows were shuttered. The CBI office was obviously functional, but so very quiet. In Lisbon's shuttered office, the occasion ting of a playing card against the side of a trash can could be heard. Her game of pitch was not going well. So far, she was only hitting about 50%.

Jane was stretch out on his couch, looking more bored than usual, if possible. For some reason, Elvis was just not amusing him, today. Periodically, a soft groan would escape from him, but not loud enough for anyone to comment on. THAT would have helped to break the boredom. Cho was folding a dollar bill crane and even his impassive face seemed bored. Van Pelt and Rigsby, staring into each others eyes, were the only two who did not seem affected by the total inactivity and boredom. They looked happy, judging from the sappy looks on their faces.

There was a crash from Lisbon's office. It sounded like a trash can being kicked over. Her door flew open and she point to Jane, "I'm going to shoot you, Jane. I'm going to perforate your damn psychic, self-satisfied hide!"

He jerked upright is obvious alarm. "Me? I didn't do it. Honest. I mean, I'm sorry." He paused. "What he hell ARE you talking about?"

Lisbon glared at him. "I'm bored. I'm bored. Do you hear me? I am freaking bored." Jane's eyes widened as he contemplated his bosses obvious insanity. "And I think shooting you would be fun. If I'm having fun, I'm not bored, right?"

"Lisbon, Teresa, It's OK." His mind raced trying to figure what was really going on. He did notice, with some relief, that she was not armed. "Just sit down. Take a few deep breaths and let's talk about this." His voice had the professional, calm persuasiveness of a old time snake oil salesman.

Lisbon looked around the office. All eyes were on her, now. She glared at them. "Is anyone bored, now?"

They looked at each other in confusion. "No boss," the all said in unison. Cho raised his hand. Teresa glared in his direction. "I want to see if you can hit him. He's sneaky," Cho said.

Teresa returned her gaze to Jane. "Cho want's me to try." That's when Jane noticed the slight quiver of her mouth suppressing a smile. "Are you really so sneaky that I couldn't hit you?"

By then. Teresa lost it and grinned. "You probably are, but this is the most fun I've had all week!"

Jane's face was a study in emotions. For once, he was not portraying what he was not. There as relief, irritation, frustration, then humor. He grinned. "I'd have enjoyed it a lot more IF it had been Cho, the little traitor, that you were considering shooting, but you did all right. I was actually wondering what you'd found out, there for a second."

Lisbon gaze intensified in his direction. "There's something to find out?"

Jane got that 'oops' look on his face, then he grinned. "My dear Lisbon, there is always something to find out. You know how complicated life it."

Lisbon appeared less than convinced, but then Cho spoke up. "Did you just call me a traitor?"

Jane briefly raised his eyes heavenward, as if to say: "Why me?" then replied. "You were suggesting that my body be perforated. Does the shoe fit?"

"It is a slow day," Cho responded deadpan.

Grace added to the conversation. "OK, Mr. Psychic, when is the phone going to ring with a nice juicy case for us?"

Jane stared at her. "In," he hesitated, "exactly nine seconds."

"That phone rings in nine seconds we all owe you lunch," Grace said.

"Yea," Rigsby seconded.

Jane said nothing, he just continued raising fingers, one a second, as he'd been doing since the made the claim. When his ninth finger went up, the phone in Lisbon's office did ring. Lisbon ran get it, Grace grabbed the cross at her neck, Rigsby and Cho just stared at each other. Jane pasted the biggest grin on his face to date.

The phone conversation was short and to the point, mostly Lisbon saying yes, sir and no sir, then right away, sir. She came out of her office, shrugging into a shoulder holster. "Let's go," she said. "We have a major nasty. It's on the Bloods' turf, so this could get interesting. We're called in because of the Bloods angle."

"Can I drive?" Jane was almost dancing with excitement.

"No! Jane. Rigsby is driving. You think the SUV is a sports car." Lisbon responded. Jane's face fell. "Get over it, Jane. You are a big boy!"

* * * * * * *

The outlying farm house seemed an unlikely place to be bloods turf or a brutal murder, but too many times, unlikely is the rule of the day. There were flashing state patrol cars all over the place, and yellow crime scene tape was strung around, making a maze of the area.

"I hope you haven't eaten, today," a state trooper major was saying to Lisbon. "It's really bad in there. Think train wreck." She was close enough to smell the odor of violent death, though this was worse than usual. Lisbon looked inside, and then quickly withdrew her head. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Heads up, team. This is not nice," she said. They all entered, not wanting to see what was there, but having to not only look, but examine to do their jobs.

The smell was battlefield foul. Viscera were scattered around, inside, as were limbs and heads. The dismemberment could not have been more complete if a chain saw had been used, but by appearance of the limbs, it looked as if they'd be ripped off, rather than cut off, though certain deep gashes could either be knife, fang or claw wounds. That would have to wait for the coroner's report.

They were all looking pale and shaken, but Jane was not allowing anything to go unnoticed. He finally straightened and called for attention. "Do you guy notice anything really weird, here?"

"Everything," Grace said quietly.

"Yes." Cho said. "No blood."

oOOOo


	2. Consideration

**Consideration**

Lisbon put the phone back onto its cradle. "The coroner actually agreed to a rush on this one," she said. "He's never seen anything like it and can't wait to get elbow deep in guts or something." The look of distaste on her face spoke volumes of what she thought of that.

"This case reminds me of the one in Maine," Grace said. "The way the bodies are mutilated.

"Yes," echoed Rigsby, "but even worse."

Lisbon frowned, the memory of that case was not a pleasant one. They'd nearly gotten killed, made no arrests, and had gotten kicked out of the state. It has not been their finest moment. "This is not Maine, and the Bloods are not The Deacon! This is our turf." She looked like she was ready to spit.

"Easy, Boss, Easy! So far as we know, there is no connection between The Deacon and the Bloods." Jane took a sip of tea and continued. "The Deacon and that motorcycle gang did not get along, if you'll recall."

That actually brought a smile to Lisbon's face. The shooting war between Duk's Raiders and The Deacon, was what had saved their lives, allowing them to escape. "Yes, that was a beautiful thing," she said. "We really did nearly buy it that time didn't we? I hope there is a connection. I really do want another crack at that bastard!"

Jane looked surprised. "You really do hold a grudge, don't you?"

"And you don't?" Lisbon shot back.

"Point taken." Jane sat down. "I'll shut up now."

Van Pelt stood, raising one hand. "Attention, everyone. Jane is now going to shut up," she intoned.

Jane opened his mouth to say something, but was preempted by Lisbon. "Now, Grace. You agitate him and you'll just get him started again. Why not let peace reign?"

Lisbon's phone rang again. She snatched it up, hoping it was the coroner. "Hold on," she told him. "I'm putting you on speaker phone." She waved the team, who were all anxiously waiting, into her office to hear.

"I'm going to fax you my findings, but I thought I'd better try to explain some of it, first," the coroner said.

"That good, huh," Lisbon asked.

"At least," was the reply. "You may have noticed that the scene seemed almost blood free. Well, so where to bodies. Of course they way they were torn apart, that would be expected, but since there was so little blood at the scene, I'm don't know how to account for it, unless they were killed and bled out elsewhere, then taken to where they were found and dismembered. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I think that's unlikely, though I don't have a better explanation."

"What caused the wounds we saw," asked Rigsby.

"Ah, those wounds. There were some knife wounds, but most of them appear to be inflicted by very sharp canine type teeth or fangs. The stomach walls were opened by a very sharp knife in a cut or strike called the "blue worm". This is a vertical strike across the lower abdomen that opens the abdominal wall and allows the intestines to spill out. It is very painful and not instantly fatal. I can take death hours to result, though I'm not sure at what point of the dismemberment that they sustained that particular wound."

"So, give me a nice short summary, here. What happened to them," Lisbon said.

"I'll try. It appears as if they were cut, bitten and chewed, with tremendous force exerted on the limbs and joints, severing the connective tissue, tendons and muscles, allowing separation of the limbs. The head was apparently twisted, while the neck was severed with a cutting instrument, finally totally dismembering it. There are deep bruises, indicating that the attacker or attackers, possessed great strength. I'd be looking for a weight lifter or someone very large and strong."

That looked at each other in bewilderment. "Doctor, you mention that they were bit. Were you able to get any DNA from saliva," Lisbon asked.

"Uh," there was hesitation. "No, not really. The samples were small and probably degraded. Errors could result."

Jane frowned. "Doctor, what are you not telling us? I know that you don't want to say something, but this is on the phone, and it'll be just for our team. Nothing written, OK?"

The coroner coughed. "When I got the results back the report said that the closest match to the DNA was of the family Desmodontinae."

Jane nodded. "I see. Yes, that would have to be an error. Sorry I asked."

"Anything else you can tell us that might be of use." Lisbon asked. Responding to the negative reply, Lisbon thanked the doctor, assured hem that they would examine his written report, thanked him for the personal consultation and hung up.

Lisbon sighed. We are looking for a very large body builder who as long sharp teeth and likes to bite, pull people apart and cut them up. Have I missed anything?"

Rigsby snorted. "Sounds like a lot of those bikers we've seen lately!"

The fax machine sprang to life, again. Grace went over to it to see what was coming in. "Hey, we've got an ID on the DBs, and they have records longer than our collective arms! She frowned. "They are from Maine and I see "The Deacon" mentioned several times. She looked up, face ashen. The Deacon was a Satanist, wasn't he?

Jane nodded. "That and human sacrifice along with a child sex ring were alleged. He is not a nice man."

Lisbon snarled, "He comes to my state and he won't have any manhood left. I'll remove it."

Everyone stared at her. Apparently, she really could hold a grudge.

"Feel better now that is said," Jane offered, trying to defuse her anger.

"I do," she said. "And I'll feel even better when you tell me what Desmodontinae is. You seem to recognize the word, and frankly, I've never heard it before."

Jane frowned. I'm afraid this is not going to make you feel any better."

"Oh, just tell me, Jane. No games. What does it mean?"

He sighed. "Ok. Desmodontinae is the vampire bat family."

oOOOo


	3. Conversation

**Conversation**

The big biker stared at Cho and Jane with no real hostility. "I guess you want to talk to Monk," he growled. From his size and demeanor, it was highly probable that growling is what passed, with him, as social good manners.

Cho, in Jane's little car, felt like like he was sitting on the ground. "We do," he said looking up at Brute.

"Monk said to send you in when you got here. Park dat tin can over there, away from our machines."

Jane started to say something but Cho interrupted him. "Shut up, Jane and park." He started to retort but thought better of it and parked as and were instructed.

They were at one of the Bloods hangout bars, where they'd been before. Monk was the local leader of this Bloods chapter and they'd parted on good terms. Jane wasn't sure about Cho, but he was sure he wanted to remain on as good terms with the bikers as he could. People who crossed them had a habit of turning up dead. A badge helped, but was no guarantee.

Brute led them into the smokey interior of the bar, where silence fell as the entered. Monk stood up and greeted them. "Glad you could make it, guys. Come on over and sit a bit."

Cho and Jane exchanged confused glances, but the fact that life seemed to have returned to normal and they were no longer the center of attraction, was OK to both of them. Cho reached for his badge as he approached Monk, intending to properly identify himself.

"Can it, Dude. I know who you are."

"OK," Cho said. "We'd like to discuss the three bodies found on the Bloods property, yesterday.

"Yea, I just bet you would," Monk grumbled. He set a cold can of beer before each agent, and took a pull on his own. He belched and said, "Hospitality."

Cho raised the frosty can, nodded, and took a pull. No song and dance about being on duty. Just protocol. Cho and Monk stared at Jane till he did the same.

"Why did you say that you invited us here," Jane asked. "Do you really want to see us?"

Monk stared at him squinting. "Want is a strong word, but let's say you have powerful friends in low places." Again, Cho and Jane exchanged glances. "Let's say I was told that we should have a little chat and that we should act civilized." Monk did not look happy, but he did not seem hostile.

Jane looked at him and Jane-smiled. "You're curious and not very upset we're here. You don't know what happened to those men, but you're glad it did. You want to get us out of your hair so business can proceed and your life can return to normal."

Monk glowered at him. "Oh, yea. I'd almost forgotten about how annoying you can be."

"I suppose you know they weren't from around here," Monk stated.

Cho and Jane nodded. "Hmm," Monk said. He stared hard at them and grinned. "It was you guys! That explains it." He actually laughed. "That explains a lot."

Jane turned to Cho and said, "He just figured out it was us that Duk's Raiders, ah," he paused, "assisted our prior endeavor."

Monk snorted. "Yea, assisted. Saved your asses, he did." Monk leaned back and stared at them speculatively. He looked at Cho. "Agent Cho, why don't you and Brute go check out some of our fine choppers while not Agent Consultant Jane and I have a little chat. I might say some things law enforcement shouldn't oughta hear."

Cho did not look happy. "What makes you think he won't tell me what you say?"

Monk smiled, "if he did that would be hear say and not not admissible in court. Besides Jane's a good guy and can keep a confidence, and he's not a sworn officer of the law."

Brute lay a ham sized hand on Cho's shoulder. "This way little guy. We got some purdy bikes just outside." Cho rolled his eyes and followed Brute outside.

Monk took another swig of his beer and looked Jane up and down. He shook his head. "I don't know what you got, but it must be something. Ok, to business. I'm gonna lay some stuff on you, you're going to listen. I've been told to tell you that Eliza said to do what's right." Jane started to speak, but Monk stopped him. "You listen." When Jane nodded, Monk continued.

"The Bloods and Raiders have some overlapping interests. We sort of scratch each other's backs. This nasty old Deacon person sometimes gets in the way and tries to put his nose where it doesn't belong. As you know, the three sushi dudes were his men. It was not the bloods that did them in. The Raiders had someone here to take care of them and to send a real strong message back east. Now, I have it on good authority that there is no way that you're going to solve this case. You can waste your time and run around in circles, but it ain't gonna happen. Last time you tried, you got your ass handed to you and the Raiders saved you. If you screw around and get the Deacon to send another crew out here, I'm not sure the Bloods would be so kind. Out there, you had a friend. Here, all you got is me and I'm not ready to be your bosom buddy."

"So what are you suggesting," asked Jane.

"I can arrange it so that it looks like these three dudes were gonna burn the Deacon, and he took care of them. That keeps you and the CBI from mucking around in Bloods business, gives you a closed case and everyone is happy."

Jane nodded. "That sounds good, but you have to realize that the rest of the team is going to have to do little running around in circles before they're ready to buy your solution."

Monk nodded. "Prolly. Some cops are that way. We gotta deal?"

"As far as I'm concerned, what you've suggested sounds good to me. I'm not the team, but I do have influence. I think we can make it work."

Monk stood. "Good. This shit is bad for business."

oOOOo


	4. Investigation

**Investigation**

Lisbon and Van Pelt looked at the collection of body parts strewn neatly on the coroner's stainless steel tables. They were beginning to get "ripe" enough that Rigsby had thrown his sandwich away and spent some moments closely examining the bottom of a trash can.

Van Pelt was holding and examining a forearm that had no hand. "Look at this," she said to Lisbon. "I think this is a ligature mark."

Lisbon took that magnifying glass from her and examined the indicated area. She nodded. "Looks that way. Let's examine the other limb and see if they show the same marks. If they do, we can assume these men were bound before being killed." They each picked up another body part and started to examine it. Additional wet sounds from Rigsby caused Lisbon to flinch. "Rigsby, go discuss this case with someone somewhere else, OK?"

"No problem, Boss," he said. "No problem." His rapid exit gave undeniable testament to his discomfort level.

"I told him not to eat before we came here," Van Pelt said. "Would he listen? No, he would not listen. Now look at him."

"I think he was actually green," Lisbon chuckled. "I guess I feel sorry for him, but he should have listened to you."

The coroner walked in, eating a large jelly doughnut. "You ladies finding anything to tickle your fancy. We have a special on these, today," he said, picking up a severed foot. "Get two for the price of one."

Van Pelt and Lisbon looked at each other and shrugged as the coroner laughed at his own joke, spraying doughnut crumbs around the area.

"I wonder how Jane and Cho are doing," mused Van Pelt, picking up a shinbone with ankle and most of a foot still attached.

"Oddly enough, he and Cho seem to get along with the bikers. If it weren't so absurd, I'd have to suspect something, but I have no idea what!" Lisbon put down a body part she'd been examining. "I think it's fairly obvious that these men were bound prior to death. From the depth of the bruising, I'm guessing they really strained to get free. That amount of damage would suggest they were being tortured and were attempting to free themselves."

The scene in the coroner's morgue resembled a spare parts bin. The largest part was the torso and the headless, armless, legless torso presented a grotesque appearance

oOo

The three men, shackled and obviously drugged, were prodded into position and secured to "The Wall." The wall was a construct of pipes arranged so that the human body could be secured to it in various way. It was strong, functional, and from the surroundings, the distinct impression of "torture" chamber was stimulated. Their captors gave each an injection and left the area.

Time passed and the movements of the three men became more purposeful and coherent. The duct tape over their mouths made meaningful conversation impossible. Their upper bodies were bare, and they were bound, arms outstretched, and at a forty five degree angle upwards. A heavy leather strap, around the chest and just under the arms, secured them firmly to the frame. The plastic cuffs bound their wrists and ankles to the frame.

They quickly discovered that struggling only caused the thin plastic straps to viciously cut into their flesh and that the heavy leather chest strap offer no hope of escape. It took only minutes for them to realize that there was no hope of escape. Their eyes were the only real gauge of their terror.

A leather clad figure entered their field of vision causing all three of them to attempt to speak through the duct tape, an attempt that resulted in weird mumblings and some additional damage on their wrists, but accomplished nothing useful.

The leather clad figure stared at them and then she smiled. "Duk asked me to give you and The Deacon his regards."

This set off a whole round of communication attempts, with the same results as the prior attempt. The leather clad figure drew a long, double edged knife from a belt scabbard. "No, no, she said. Don't bother to talk. You really have nothing to say that I want to hear. This," she held the knife up, "is a Sykes-Fairbairn, called the British Commando's knife. Some have called it silent death. Together, we'll test that theory." She paused and stared at the three of them. "You do know that you're going to die, don't you?" She smiled.

This set of another round of talking attempts. "Relax, gentlemen." The figure said. "Not today. Uh, that's not really the good news." She smiled. "You see, it'll take longer than that."

oOo

Back at the office, Rigsby was consoling himself with a tuna sandwich, the green tinge to his complexion had vanished. Jane had told Cho most of what Monk had said to him, and Cho shared the opinion that was a good way to close the case. The were The Deacon's men, and no matter how you cut it, The Deacon was responsible. Now, everyone was waiting while Lisbon organized folders and notes.

She raised her head and spoke: "OK, team, let me start by summarizing what we really have, and that's a triple murder, torture and dismemberment style. We have a coroner that want's us to believe in vampires and super strong animal attacks." She sighed. "Only in California!" Continuing, "What examination shows is ligature marks, a lot of knife wounds, what does appear to be large animal bits on some of the extremities, but now where did I see any signs of what could be considered to be vampire fang marks or vampire bites. I did find bite marks that match reasonably well with known pit bull attacks.

"Additionally, we traced these men as being The Deacons' soldiers and they are clearly stepping into the Bloods territory. That can get you killed, but the Bloods simply don't have a history of this sort of thing."

"But The Deacon does," Jane spoke up.

oOOOo


	5. Police Work

**Police Work**

Lisbon turned and stared at Jane. "And just why would The Deacon be wanting to kill his own employees?"

Jane smiled a knowing smile. "Other than him being a sleazy murderer, I can think of several reasons. There really is no honor among thieves, you know."

"Go on," Lisbon prodded.

When Cho and I talked to the Bloods, they flat out denied that they had anything to do with the death of these three and claimed that it was The Deacon, cleaning house, that was the motive. They claim it was The Deacon, not them, that did this, and as far as they are concerned, the quicker this is over, the better they'll like it."

"Damn!" Lisbon said. "For one time, I'll have to agree with the gang. The quicker it's over, the better I'll like it too." She looked at Cho and Jane. "So what's your read on it?"

Cho nodded. "It's possible. That sort of thing usually isn't the Bloods style, and their hypothesis does make sense. If The Deacon found out that three of his men, that he'd sent to mess up a deal between the Bloods and the Raiders, were trying to double cross him or rip him off, I'm guessing that he'd make it messy."

"It makes sense. More so than anything we've got to date," Jane said.

"OK, Let's say this is true. We need evidence. Where do we find this evidence," Lisbon asked.

They all looked at each other. Finally Rigsby broke the silence. "We could try good old fashioned police work."

oOo

"Dammit!" Grace spat in disgust, slamming the phone down. All eyes turned towards her to see what was causing the totally uncharacteristic outburst. She glared at them "This old fashioned police work isn't working! The bloods aren't talking, the Raiders are on the other side of the country and The Deacon is unapproachable and as far away as the Raiders, the coroner can't' find time to put down his doughnut, and when he does he's trying to sell spare body parts." She sighed a heavy sigh. Almost everyone had some complaint about the case. Even Cho had muttered something about the impossible taking a little longer, but had not looked happy at the thought.

"OK, people. Enough. I know this one is a tough one. We do have this, now." Lisbon said, holding up a photo of three faces. "These are the three dead men, reconstructed to have some appearance of life. The computer is trying to match that faces to some names, but we can hit the street and start talking to people and find out if anyone has seen these characters and if we can figure out where they came from and where they went."

oOo

The extremely large man wrinkled his nose as he entered the "torture" chamber. Compared to the relatively tiny, leather clad figure, who had been so expertly wielding the very sharp knife, he was huge as was the 120 pound snarling dog he was easily controlling with one hand.

"So these are our boys," he said offering a pleasant smile.

The three bound men seemed even more distressed than they had been. Possibly the dog, an animal that could easily maim and kill them, accounted for that effect, or maybe it was his size, and despite the surroundings, the easy and confident smile the newcomer offered. He was at least 6'7" and built, almost lean, like a hard working stevedore.

"I figure we'll spend another day or so with these guy and then dispose of them. By then, they should be ready to tell almost everything they know about The Deacon's operation." She turned and stared at one of the bound men. "Won't you, sweetie?"

She traced down his chest with the needle sharp blade she was holding, stopping right above the pubic bone. She smiled and slowly inserted the knife, hilt deep into his abdomen. The man's eyes widened and the threw his head back in agony, screaming into the duct tape as loudly as he could.

She slowly withdrew the knife and wiped the blood on his chest. "Oh, I bet that really hurt, she said to the man, as he attempted to curl into a fetal ball to relieve the pain in his lower gut. The duct tape on his mouth prevented any response ,other than low moans, it's doubtful if he could talk, at the moment. The plastic cuffs prevented him from achieving any muscular relief. His eyes glazed with pain and all he could do was whimper.

"How long have you had them," the man asked.

"A little over 24 hours. I think that's the first fatal wound I've inflicted, but he's got a few good days left, if we need it. Once peritonitis sets in, we'll only have a few hours so we'll have to be alert."

The man nodded. "OK, that's not difficult. I see they still have all their limbs. That's good. I like to let Sampson," he patted the huge dog, "chew off and eat some body parts. That always gets the attention of the others that are watching. Most of them have never really seen an animal feed." He chuckled. "They do find it fascinating."

"Sounds like fun," she said. "Could you wait till I come back for that? I'd like to watch. I'm sure you can find ways to amuse yourself while I refresh and relax a little."

The large man grinned. "Sure thing! Sampson and I do some of our best work when we have an appreciative audience.

As she left, the large man secured the dog to a post and turned to the three men. He smile and said, "Gentlemen, today is just not your day. Not your day to die, that is. I regret to inform you that you will live through this day. The little lady is good with knives. I," he held up two huge hands, "am good with these."

oOOOo


	6. Resolution

**Resolution**

So far, Rigsby and Van Pelt had finally connected the three men to Maine, though only the fingerprints and police records show the "Deacon" link. However the pictures had allowed a cab driver to remember that the three men had been transported to a downtown hotel from the Sacramento International Airport, and could even tell them what hotel he took them to. His memory was so good because they totally stiffed him on the tip and threatened him when he complained. The cabbie was more than happy to tell all he knew about them.

The hotel clerk seemed almost relieved to learn that the three men were dead and had no compunction about letting them into the now vacant room. He was obviously not a fan of these particular guests."

The room was a gold mine of evidence. Rigsby hugged Van Pelt, a good excuse, he figured, and said, "No problem connecting them to The Deacon, now," he exulted. "We've got the goods on them!"

Back at the office, Lisbon was relieved that an end was in sight. Cases were coming in, and the clearance rate had dropped. The initial excitement about the triple dismemberment case had left the front page, and the average citizen had forgotten all about it. Lisbon had been getting pressure to close the case or move it to the cold case file. Lisbon hated losing and moving a case to the cold case file was losing, in her mind.

"So, how are we going to handle this," Rigsby asked.

"I like the scenario that Jane proposed right at the beginning. We are never going to find out who did this. We can speculate why. After all, there were traces of heroine in the room and some empty bags that suggest there may have been a lot. That alone could get you dead." Lisbon responded.

"Jane," Lisbon said, "can you think of any way we can get some hard evidence to link the actual murders to The Deacon? This is not a nice tidy package. It might satisfy the Mayor, but it does not satisfy me."

Jane opened one eye and struggled to a sitting position on the couch. "You have to pick my nap time to get picky," he groaned. He looked up at the ceiling. "You stay right there, Elvis. I will return." He stood and stretched. "I hate to admit this, Lisbon, but I agree with you. It's not really a closed case." He turned to Cho. "Hey, Cho, feel like taking a ride to visit our friends the Bloods?"

The look on Cho's face clearly indicated that he didn't, but he nodded and stood anyway. "I guess _you_ want to drive, again," he muttered.

Jane smirked. "Why thank you for the suggestion, Cho. Don't mind if I do."

Unlike prior visits, this time, the road was blocked by two parked motorcycles. Brute, who they both recognized, and another biker were on "guard" duty. Jane pulled to a stop and rolled down his window. Brute ambled over, recognizing the car, his demeanor showed no hostility. "You guy are getting to be a real pain in the ass," he said, offering what passed for a smile. "You wanna chat at Monk, right?"

Jane nodded. "Is that possible. It looks like you don't want visitors, right now."

"Ya, we got a private party going, but lemme call Monk. He wants you gone all quiet and nice."

Brute made a call on his cell phone, and within five minutes, Monk rode up on his hog. He pulled alongside of Jane's car and killed the engine. Jane explained the situation to him and he grunted. "Gimme a couple of days. You'll have what you need." He started his hog and roared off.

"I don't think we are wanted, here," Cho said.

"I think you're right, Jane said, glancing nervously at Brute. "Maybe we should leave?"

Cho nodded. "Works for me."

On the way back, Cho's radio squawked and they needed to make a run to one of the local police stations to pick up some evidence. They were running late, so Jane dropped Cho off at his apartment and headed home, hopefully to continue his interrupted nap. He did wonder how Monk was planning on getting CBI the necessary evidence. He'd seemed confident that he could do so.

Walking up the three flights of stairs, to his apartment, he felt the tensions of the day releasing their hold on him. Some tea, a relaxing book, and.... Jane froze. The tell on his door was not as it should be.

Edging closer, he could see that it had been replaced by a white plum blossom. He smile and shook his head. Eliza, he thought. _It figures if there is crap from the east, involving the Raiders and The Deacon, Eliza can't be far behind. _He felt a distinct surge of pleasure at the prospect of meeting her again.

When he opened his door and stepped in, he had no chance to call her name. She hit him like a hundred pound kitten. He was glad that he had no intention of resisting. From her enthusiasm, she was glad, very glad, to see him and he wasn't sure he could have resisted. "Handling a 500 pound hog really must build some muscles," he thought as she pulled him towards the bed. She pushed him onto the bed and handed him a double shot of Palinca. She smiled and shrugged out of her clothing.

"Eliza naked is an inspiring sight," he thought, as he shed his clothing as quickly as possible. He tossed the Palinca, controlled his urge to choke and focused entirely on his unexpected guest.

oOo

Jane squinted in the morning sunlight. The room seemed empty and he realized it was because it was no longer filled with the vibrating presence of Eliza. When she was around, she had a way of dominating his life. He sighed and got dressed. On his way out, he noticed the brown envelope on the telephone stand by the door. He frowned, picked it up and opened it. Inside, he discovered a plastic evidence bag. He held it up to examine the bloody, 12 inch knife.

He shook his head and replaced it into the envelope.

"Case closed," he said aloud.

oOOOo


End file.
